This is the world that man made.These are the ills that plaguedThe world that man made.This is the doctor prescribing the pillsThat treated the ills that plaguedThe world that man made.These are the plants and labs and millsThat manufactured all the pills the doctorGave to treat the ills that plaguedThe world that man made.This is the banker with tellers and tillsThat backed the plants and labs and millsThat manufactured all the pills the doctorGave to treat the ills that plaguedThe world that man made.This is the general with trumpets and trillsWho made the war that saved the bank thatBacked the plants that manufactured all the pillsThe doctor gave to treat the ills that plaguedThe world that man made.Here is the mother all forlornWhose one and only child was bornTo die in the war the general made to saveThe bank that backed the plants that madeThe pills the doctor gave to treat the illsThat plagued the world that man made.This is the angel that blew his hornTo comfort the mother all forlornAnd fired the general and closed the banksAnd shut the mills and scattered the pills,Retired the doctor and cured the illsAnd ended the world that man made.